England
by Galae
Summary: (Sequel to "New York, New York") Time goes on. And on. And on. Life doesn't, however.
1. Chapter 1: Remembrance

If I owned _Harry Potter_:

-Warner Bros. would cancel any contract they had with the series.

-Scholastic would cancel any contract they had with the series.

-There would be no het fics in the HPdom.

But since none of the above had happened, it is natural to conclude that I have no ties whatsoever with _Harry Potter_.

If J.K. Rowling is ever reading this, I will first die of humiliation and then ask a favor: _Pleasepleaseplease _don't let Harry end up with Hermione or Cho. I will seriously boycott HP if that ever happens.

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England

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by Galae

"What do _you_ want?"

"I _am_ allowed to be here, right?" Harry asked, brushing past Severus before the older man could do anything but stare. "I mean, all your other students come to you for help. The great Harry Potter might, too, fail the next Potions exam."

Severus locked the door and walked over. Harry had sat down already. "Fine. Harry. What do you need?"

Harry's lips curled up into a smile. "I _like_ hearing you say my name."

Severus sighed, but somewhere near the corner of his mouth a smile glimmered. "Harry, you shouldn't be here. This is too dangerous. You should have had enough mind to leave everything . . . _untouched_ until at least after you graduate. If Draco waltzes by at this exact moment . . ."

"On a first-name basis with him, huh?" Harry said scathingly.

"Mind you, Harry, I did not deal with your father about the helpfulness of Dark curses on a regular basis."

Harry slumped into his chair. Jealousy's a persistent bastard.

"Again I ask, what do you need?"

"You."

"Harry . . ."

Harry drew himself up immediately. "No, you don't understand. It might be all right for you to preen and pose in front of all of them, but you're a hell of a better actor than I am. I hate it. Potions, every single day, watching you teach up there, and it's suddenly like we've never gone to New York. That's it was just one big, great dream."

"Being with me was one big, great dream?" Severus said, his lips twitching again.

"You know what I mean," Harry continued on. He stood up now, circling the armchairs like Merlin losing his mind. "I don't like it. It scares me. Like . . . like you've really forgotten everything." He bit his lip and looked at Severus.

The professor's face was thrown into shadow, as usual. In front of Severus Harry always felt like a painting. That everybody could see him, but he couldn't see anybody. 

"I see. You came here to make sure I'm reminded that I spent two weeks in that accursed city. With you, nonetheless."

"I—" It was useless. Talking to Severus sometimes was like talking to a diary. They both take your words and spit it back at you with twice the force.

"Harry. Tell me, then, what I'm supposed to do."

Harry bit his lips. He almost drew blood and he stopped. It wouldn't do to start bleeding in the middle of the Potions office.

"You have your reputation to think about. I have my career. I thought we agreed on this."

"But I didn't know it was going to be like . . . _this_!" Harry cried. "I didn't know that I was supposed to sit back and watch you fawn over those stupid Slytherins like nothing happened. I'm not an adult, Severus. I never was. I was always just a kid born with too much responsibility and not enough brains."

"You have plenty of brains," Severus said sharply. "It's just that they're all withering on Quidditch!"

"Don't bring Quidditch into this!"

"Oh? Then am I supposed to say that you're a stupid idiot?"

"I can't believe I'm doing this. We're not arguing over my intelligence. We're supposed to be arguing over what . . . our relationship is."

Severus stopped. "What is it?"

"I don't know. I don't know. And that's why I came." Slowly, Harry lifted his eyes to look at Severus. For once, the black eyes were neither stony nor cold. Something stirred inside them.

"Harry." His voice was soft. Severus unbuttoned his collar. Harry watched, mesmerized, as those long fingers drew out a chain. 

Severus held out the ring. 

For a while neither of them said anything. They both stared at that circlet of gold, the small rubies dancing in the firelight. Then, shaking, Harry took out his. The tiny silver box was warm against his palm.

"See, Harry?"

Harry held out his other hand. Severus leaned forward. Their hands found each other in the glow of the fire and they clasped.

They sat like that for a long time.

~*~*~

Harry was graduating. It was the day that Severus had been dreading and anticipating. Ever since that damned day in New York, when he realized that utterly his life would be intertwined with that boy.

Harry Potter.

"Harry Potter," said Dumbledore. The crash of applause shook the stones of Hogwarts as a couple hundred hands clapped with awe and congratulations.

Severus gazed down from where he was standing. Yes. He looked just the way Severus imagined he'd look. Skin white as moonlight, the dusky rose of excitement tinting his cheeks, mouth slightly open in the signature expression of disbelief. His Hogwarts graduation hat was perched on his head, above the jet-black hair—still unruly, after two different potions and five different spells. Harry was graduating.

He walked up the stairs. Dumbledore was first to shake his hand and say a few words. Then McGonagall, as befitting his House. Severus watched him as he sailed down that row of teachers. Maybe he imagined it, but did Harry actually look . . . like he's searching for someone in particular?

My, my, but his ego had inflated quite a bit in the last few weeks. Perhaps it was all Potter's influence.

"Professor."

One simple word, and Severus was looking into the face of the one whom he had loathed and loved. 

"Harry Potter."

Harry looked up. Despite seven years, Severus still topped him by a good two inches. 

Black eyes. Gosh, so black. Before they had been inscrutable, but now they were . . . not so inscrutable. There was something in them that Harry didn't even recognize. Warmth. 

Severus smiled a little. Just a tiniest bit of a smile that could have been passed off as a twitch of the lip. In that instant, everything was said and done.

"Harry Potter," said Severus, loudly so that at least all the teachers could hear. "Congratulations. Your accomplishments had said much about your character. Succeed you will with what you have. Good luck."

Simple words. Without thinking, Harry grinned and said, "Same to you. Professor."

They shook hands stiffly and Harry walked down the stage.

Severus smirked as McGonagall and all the others turned to gape at him. Let them ponder _that_ for a while.

~*~*~

Oh damn. He should have expected this. Severus mentally smacked himself for letting himself get so illogical.

But it _was_ Harry's graduation. Severus girded himself up for some tough mind-reading.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk with a pile of papers in front of him. This he expected. What Severus did not expect was Harry sitting in one of Dumbledore's stuffed armchairs, talking animatedly with his (former?) headmaster.

But they both looked up as Severus grunted to signal his entrance.

"Ah, Severus!" Dumbledore exclaimed. If he didn't know better, Severus would have believed that he was going to be congratulated. "How kind of you to join us. And right on time as well! Come, come, draw up the other chair. And then we'd begin."

Severus walked across the room awkwardly, trying not to meet eyes with hi—with Harry. Harry, however, didn't seem to notice anything awry and gazed at him for a second before turning his attention back to Dumbledore. You'd think that, being sent to the headmaster's office so often, the boy would have learned how Dumbledore operated.

"Tea?" Dumbledore asked. His tea set immediately slid over the desk and the teapot began to fill itself.

"Yes, thank you," both said at the same time. An uncomfortable silence. But the headmaster didn't seem to notice, but instead he went on pouring the tea and passing out the two cups cheerfully.

"Albus," Severus said as soon as Dumbledore sipped his own cup. "What exactly are we here for?"

Dumbledore gave him one of his rare flashing looks. "I think you know, Severus."

Oh hell. Severus groaned and prayed to Merlin that the rug would swallow him right then and there. He'd rather face Salazar's basilisk than to look at Dumbledore. At least the giant snake would give him some credit for his "Head of Slytherin" position.

"What? Know what?" said a nonplussed Harry, darting looks from Severus to Dumbledore, and back again.

"Think, Harry, think," Severus sighed. "What could Dumbledore possibly want to talk to us about?" And as soon as he heard himself speak, he shut his mouth. He was such an idiot.

"Well," said Dumbledore, much to Severus's discomfort, "I'm glad that you two have finally resolved your differences."

"I—" Harry started to say.

"_However_, I must comment that it is somewhat clear . . . you have gone a little ways beyond the arbitration table." 

Severus now looked very, _very_ uncomfortable.

Harry turned pale.

"Would you care to explain, now?" Dumbledore asked, gazing at them both. 

"Damn it, Albus, it's all _your_ fault!" Severus exploded.

"Severus?"

"It's all your fault. You sent us to New York together. You should have known."

Dumbledore smiled. "I'm flattered to be thought of as a good wizard, but I assure you, Severus, that Divination was not one of my better subjects."

"Then why did you send us to New York?" asked Severus miserably.

"Because you're the only teacher I wouldn't sleep with," Harry blurted out. Then he shut his mouth rather quickly. That _definitely_ was not supposed to come out.

Silence.

"Um," said Harry, looking at his feet. "That was, um, Ron's explanation."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "As interesting Mr. Weasley's, er, justifications may have been, I assure you, Harry, that that was not the case." He sighed a little. "Harry, Severus, I sent you both to New York because I've seen the enmity between you two. It was somewhat unsettling for a Hogwarts teacher and a student to treat each other as you treated one another. It wouldn't do for the reputation of Hogwarts, much less your personal futures. I've tried countless times to bring you to tolerate each other somewhat—as I'm sure you've noticed—but to no avail. At the time I received the news for the Atlantic Exchange, there were five more weeks left of school. I simply thought that I should try one last time."

"Oh," said Harry meekly.

"But—but—" 

"Yes, Severus?"

Severus gave up. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly.

"I assure you first, Severus, that the contents of this conversation will remain strictly between Harry, yourself, and I," said Dumbledore. There was somewhat of a look of amusement on his face. "Now, I have explained myself and you still have not done the same. Severus. Harry. Is there something I should know?"

"Ah . . ." Harry said, shooting another look at Severus. He received an exasperated go-on-and-get-this-over-with look. "Um, Se—Sna—" No, that just sounded wrong. "Professor Snape and I . . . we . . ."

"Are you in a relationship?"

"I think so." Harry bit his lip.

"You think so?" Dumbledore furrowed his brow. "Severus?"

Severus took a breath and looked at Harry. "I think so, too."

"I see. I hope it doesn't sound too intruding to ask why I did not get a simple yes or now answer?"

"We're not really sure. Yet," added Harry. "I mean, we haven't exactly got everything done to a science."

"Obviously," said Severus dryly.

"Did this association begin in New York?" Dumbledore asked.

"Strictly speaking, yes," Harry said.

Dumbledore looked at them both for a long while before settling back into his chair. "Did it occur to one of you that there may be some Hogwarts rules pertaining to this kind of activity?"

Harry squirmed a little at the last word. 

"Well, yes," Severus admitted. He failed to say anything else.

"If it was anyone else but you two, I would have given strict chastisements," said Dumbledore. "And seeing as to it is you two, I think I should be giving even stricter ones. But I confess that I see nothing truly . . . worthy of censure. I think that you are both aware of the consequences of any actions and thus have conducted yourselves with dignity. That, I assure you, I am very grateful for."

Dumbledore pulled his chair closer to the desk and placed both hands on the tabletop. He continued, "And because Harry had graduated today and is no longer a Hogwarts student, I have no more complaint." He smiled. "You seem to have impeccable timing. Severus, I spare you of any admissions to the rest of the staff." Severus paled a little at this, but then returned to his normal color—which was still very, very pale. "Although I think that perhaps Minerva should have a few words. And—"

"Were we really _that_ obvious?" Severus choked out.

"During the ceremony? Not really. But Minerva _did_ give me a little look."

"Oh, sodding Merlin," said Severus. "That means _everyone_ would know."

"Minerva has become quite fond of the word 'privacy', Severus," Dumbledore articulated. "Since Harry is no longer a student, that means that your personal affairs is no longer of our concern, either. The only reason why I called you both down today is because I wanted to make few things a little clearer."

"Such as?" Severus asked.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I support you wholeheartedly."

"Dumbledore?" Harry said slowly. They have been sitting in his office for over an hour now. But still he had not asked the question. "Um, how did you find out?"

"I think that is a question both of us would like answered," said Severus.

"Well," said Dumbledore, clearing his throat. "You see, in all the years that I've known you, Severus, you have never said 'good luck' to a graduating student."

"Yes, I have," said Severus defensively. "Malfoy."

"Malfoy!" Harry scowled.

"_Draco _Malfoy?" Dumbledore arched an eyebrow. "If I recall, you said 'good riddance.'"

Severus turned chalk-white again. 

"Fortunately for you, Draco believed it to be very funny. He obviously thought that his professor finally received a sense of humor."

"That bastard," Severus snarled. "I never joke."

"Anyways, I coupled that interesting comment with the fact that Harry visited your office quite often in the past three weeks, and decided that there was something between you two."

"How did you—" gasped Harry.

"The Marauders were very clever," Dumbledore said, winking, "and I pride myself on knowing everything that they did. Someone had to keep the school in order when they were around."

"Argh." Severus shifted uneasily.

"Speaking of which, I think you can imagine the obvious deduction from that, am I correct?" By the tone in Dumbledore's voice, he had been waiting to ask that for quite a while.

Severus said evenly, "Albus. I can assure you that nothing—_inappropriate_—had occurred between Mr. Potter and I. It rather weighted well on my conscience that we did not permit anything to happen."

"That is certainly nice to hear," said Dumbledore. His eyes flickered over to Harry, who grinned. "You could imagine what I would have had to do if you said contrary. But I knew that I have not judged you wrongly, Severus, when I hired you. You have said that Harry's character is much revealed in his accomplishments. That is true of you, also."

If Severus knew to blush, he would have made a Weasley look untalented. But instead he sucked in his cheeks, which made him look gaunter than ever. "Thank you," he said stonily.

"And you, Harry—" Harry looked up suddenly. "—I thank you for your conscientious decisions, as well. It was wise of you."

"Well . . ." Harry said, a bit uneasily. "I didn't _really_ . . ." Good Merlin, why was he telling Dumbledore this?

"Harry, a person's decisions are sometimes made outwardly, but I find that most of it comes from your subconscious mind. You might have not realized it." A final glance at Harry. "Now, I believe everything has been cleared up between the three of us?" Dumbledore inquired.

"Yes, quite," Severus said. "May we go now?" He realized that he sounded much like a naughty boy finishing his punishment. Severus fought to keep that thought from arising again.

"Ah, if my presence is so unsettling, I suppose so . . ." Dumbledore sighed.

Severus swept out the door.

**End Chapter 1**

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And a response? Thank you, please. Reviews are very much appreciated. I would love you forever. I will build a shrine to your name. If you would like to leave two reviews, that is fine by me also.

And note: US History should die and go to hell, where it belongs.


	2. Chapter 2: Reacquaintance

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Author's Note:

I could never get used to opening up my ff.net account and seeing how many people have read and _liked_ my writing. Thank you so much.

You might be wondering why it's been taking me so long to update. In case some of you have not guessed, I'm still in school, which means that yes, I do have standardized tests and I do have homework and I do have Amnesty International. However, I never stop writing! The main thing with my schedule is that now, with every chapter, I run it through my betas and I run it through my friends and _then_ I post it. So there you go.

And lastly, thanks to my betas. You rock.

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England

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by Galae

Lupin left. _Again_.

Severus failed to point the last one out before Dumbledore said, brightly, "Remus had just been appointed to a fine position as the Head of Inflicted Muggles for the Ministry of Magic. He was a wonderful Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, and his presence here will be sorely missed."

Lupin gave the rest of the professors a grateful smile as they murmured congratulations on his appointment as well as sadness over his leaving. Severus kept his head straight. He and Lupin never quite got along as well as Harry wished, but they had actually exchanged a few civil words (though, admittedly, mostly on Lupin's part). He wasn't distressed over Lupin's leaving, but still . . . he had been one of the few teachers who wasn't on Severus's black roll.

"Now, let us take a short break. We will continue the meeting in ten minutes." Dumbledore said.

Just as he was about to leave, Dumbledore called out, "Ah, yes. May I see you for a minute, Severus?" 

He tried not to throttle the smirk off Hooch's face as he turned.

"Severus," Dumbledore said when the last teacher left, "I'm sure you know what would be the effect of Remus' decision."

"The DADA post is open?" Severus raised an expressive eyebrow. "Honestly, Albus, I am not that obtuse."

"I know. I was wondering if you mind that we should close it soon."

"Albus, I had stopped wanting the post years ago," Severus interrupted. "I would not mind if you appoint yet another idiot to teach."

"I'm glad I have your blessing, then," Dumbledore said, far too happily for Severus's liking.

He's onto something, Severus thought crossly as the rest of the teachers made their way back.

"Now, our subsequent topic is, naturally, the appointment of a new teacher to the Defense Against Dark Arts position." Only Dumbledore kept insisting on calling it by its full name. "I have received many suggestions, but after a few rounds of investigation I have found just one candidate. But this person is very eligible for the position, given his past and his endeavors." Dumbledore paused and looked at the row of stern teachers staring back at him. His blue eyes twinkled. "I formally nominate Mr. Harry James Potter to be our next Defense Against Dark Arts professor."

All of the sudden the room exploded. And then it silenced. Because Severus had stared stonily at Dumbledore and said, frankly, "I truly believe that you are joking."

"Oh, Severus," said a very exasperated McGonagall. "I know that you were at great odds with the boy, but he's no longer your student and even _you_ have to admit that he has all the qualifications, and then some."

"That is not the point!" Severus snapped, whirling around. "The point is that Dumbledore _cannot appoint Harry Potter to be our next DADA teacher._"

"And why can't we, Severus?" Dumbledore looked at him through his spectacles.

"Because—because—it wouldn't work!" Severus cried frantically.

"Severus, as long as you're not sabotaging his classes, Harry would do fine!" Hooch called out. 

The bitch.

Dumbledore looked at her, and then back at Severus. "Harry would make an excellent addition to this staff. His sense of humor, his vivacity, and his talents would all contribute greatly to Hogwarts. Severus, I am sure that you_ are_ going to get along well? You seemed to have been doing well the last couple of weeks."

The bastard. Severus said nothing, only glared.

"Thank you. Is the Hogwarts faculty in unanimous agreement over the appointment of Harry Potter to the Defense Against Dark Arts position?"

One by one they stood up and said, "Aye." The rest of the staff arranged themselves for bargaining as Severus pushed himself up. 

But they never quite got to it. Because in a pained voice, Severus said, "Aye."

That was the first time in many, many years that Hogwarts was able to conclude an appointment meeting as quickly as that one.

~*~*~

As promised—all right, as warned—Harry owled Severus three times a week after school ended. They had been at the bargaining table for a long time over that frequency. Harry wanted to be able to owl Severus as much as he wanted, but Severus argued that it would seem strange for the faculty to see Harry Potter's snowy white flying into Severus's window too often. Severus finally agreed to three, and Harry promised to send the inconspicuous brown owls at the post.

But this was the fourth time that an owl tapped at his window that week, and Severus _knew_ that it wasn't from the _Daily Prophet_. 

Sure enough, Harry's untidy writing shone on the parchment.

"_Severus,_

I got the news yesterday. Dumbledore sent me an owl. I am so excited. Teaching! At Hogwarts!

I expected Dumbledore to say that you had a hard time with the appointment. But he actually added (on another slip of paper, naturally) that you were unusually quiet. I flatter myself in thinking that it was because it's me.

I suppose I'll be seeing you soon, then! Merlin, next year is going to be quite a year. You and me, teaching at Hogwarts together. I suppose there'll be no excuse to avoid me then, hmm?

I shall see you at the staff meeting in July, then. Good bye!

Harry."

Severus sighed, sat down and composed his own obligatory letter:

"_Dear Harry,_

I would consider next year a miracle if you do not flatten Hogwarts . . ."

~*~*~

The main problem, Harry thought, with his relationship with Severus was that he could never be sure of who he can tell.

Take Ron, for example. Harry even had a hard time deciding when to tell Ron. Ron, who was practically his second half; Ron, who was always there, helping him in his fights and dangers; Ron, who knew that he owned exactly seven-and-a-half pairs of socks, one of them being fuchsia, but Severus was more than anything Harry had ever told him. For all he knew, Ron could have puked. What normal teenager wants to hear that their best friend was entangled with his most despised teacher?

Still Harry told Ron the week before graduation—him and Hermione both, because he knew Hermione's cool logic would resuscitate Ron, and Ron _did _act like a fish out of the water. Hermione sighed, whacked him a few times on the back, and said, "_Honestly_, Ron, your dramatic ability should have put you into the Royal Shakespearean!" Then she turned to Harry and said, "Have you gone _insane_?"

"I don't think so," Harry said cheerfully, enjoying the scene more than he thought he would. "In fact, I feel saner than I've ever been."

This caused more choking on Ron's behalf. Harry seriously wondered if the twins had put some kind of a spell on him.

"Ron? Besides dying on me, can I please get a response?"

"Out of all the people, why _him_?" Ron demanded, wheezing. "It's bad enough picking a Hogwarts teacher, but Snape!"

"So I suppose it would have been much better if I tried to shag McGonagall?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes," said Ron, simultaneously as Hermione said, "_NO_!"

"At least McGonagall's a Gryffindor," Ron pointed out.

"Is that all there is?" Harry asked. "Houses? Honestly, Ron, I thought that at seventeen house rivalries don't matter that much anymore."

"It's not just that." Ron shook his head vigorously. "For one thing, he's, like, almost forty. He's a greasy git, and he was a Death Eater. Hardly who I thought you'd end up with, Harry."

Harry bit back an ungrateful "Well, _you're _not planning my life!" Instead he said, "I don't know. For something that you think is so wrong, it felt so right."

That quieted him. Ron closed his mouth. 

Harry sighed and turned to Hermione. "Well? What do you think?"

"After the initial 'I-think-you-need-to-go-to-St.-Mungo's'?" Hermione inquired with a smile. "Well, honestly, Harry, if you're happy, I have nothing against it. Snape is really under appreciated. When we were young, it was really difficult to look over his carps and barbs, but now, I don't know, I have developed some kind of admiration for him. He's a very intelligent man, and don't forget all he did for Dumbledore. Gosh, I don't even know if I could have done it, risking my life everyday to be a double agent."

"So you . . . support me?" An euphoric grin crept over Harry's face.

"Yes. However strange it might sound, yes, I support whatever you have with Professor Snape. But." Oh no, there's the 'but.' "After the whole compatibility thing, you do realize how many rules you are breaking? Nowhere in any of Hogwarts rules does it say that it is allowed for a teacher and a student to fraternize."

Harry groaned. "We're not 'fraternizing.' Seriously, I would be thanking my lucky stars if I had gotten half as far as you and Ron had—" A serious blushing session for both of them. "—But Se—Snape, he didn't allow it."

"You mean, you've never thought about it?" Hermione asked cautiously. Ron was still red to the tips of his hair.

"Oh, Merlin, of course I've thought about it. Some days, I've just wanted to shag him in the worst possible way, but we never did anything. Well, beyond an occasional snog." Ron, who just recovered, paled and started choking again. "Se—Snape has something about celibacy. He wants to keep the whole thing . . . appropriate . . . until I graduated and we had a serious relationship." Harry made a face. "But he never quite told me how we're going to know we have a serious relationship."

Hermione looked like she wasn't sure that 'an occasional snog' was in the school rules as well, but she didn't say it. Instead, she said, "We-ll, as long as he's not doing anything to . . . hurt you . . ."

Harry was aghast. "He _isn't!_ God, I can't even imagine that he _could!_ You don't understand, the Death Eater thing, it scared him. He would _never_ . . ."

"Well." At least Ron was breathing again. "Um, I guess, I guess—what Hermione said. You know. I support you if you're totally happy with him. But if he ever does _anything_, tell him—tell him I'd send Fred 'n George after him!"

Harry smiled.

~*~*~

It was the first time he had seen him for over . . . two months. Granted, Harry had sent him photos now and then with the correspondence, but his fingers still gave a little twitch. Harry smiled at him with his eyes. Severus swallowed and saw Albus looking at him with a benign look. This was not going to be an easy year.

Despite the fact that Poppy and Minerva sat between them, Severus was very well aware of Harry's presence. He could sense his every movement, every smile, every nod. It was insane, completely insane, but . . . 

"Is there anything else someone would like to say?"

Severus's head jerked up. Of course. He had been so busy focusing on not focusing on Harry that he missed the entire meeting. Oh well. He could always force it out of Minerva later.

What was happening to him?

"Then I shall conclude this meeting. Be aware that school opens in seven days." (Severus privately thought 'beware' might have been more fitting). "Don't forget that we have a little opening party Friday night. If anyone has any concerns, feel free to come up to my office. The password for this month is 'Cinnamon.'"

"Cinnamon?" Severus repeated.

Dumbledore winked. "Far better for my health than, say, lemon drops, don't you think? I am quite convinced that if I say it often enough, I shall be spared a reprimand next time I visit Poppy."

As the rest of the teachers shuffled out, Severus took an amazing amount of time to get his parchments and inkwells in order. He finally stood up, well aware of the young figure at his back as he walked out.

"Well?" Harry said. 

Severus continued to stride. "Not here, Harry." He reached his office and unlocked it.

For the first time that day, he was able to get a good look at him. Harry had grown little over the summer—he was past his growth spurt ages. But his skin was more golden, eyes brighter, mouth set in a merrier line. Despite it all, though, Harry looked more like the man he was.

"Well?" Harry repeated. "Did you miss me?"

"How could I, with your owls tapping at my window every five seconds?" 

"I missed that tongue," Harry murmured, taking a step closer and wrapping his arms around Severus. "In more ways than one."

And then those full lips were on his, mouth parting with familiarity, tongues meeting again in slow re-acquaintance. Severus didn't need to say anything. As Harry's tongue dove in and out of his mouth, dancing around his, eliciting unconscious tremors up and down his spine, there were no words that needed to be said.

"You're a fast worker," Severus said when they parted. 

"Only when I care to be," answered Harry.

Severus gestured towards the armchairs. "As much as I'd love to continue this session, we have a few things to talk about."

Harry nodded and sat down, eyes never leaving Severus's face. "Like the next year?"

"Yes. Do you intend on continuing this relationship for that long?"

He was serious. And Harry was serious too when he answered, "I want to continue this relationship for as long as I can."

"That might be quite a while, Harry," Severus observed. It was neither sappy nor biting. Just truthful.

Harry shifted in his chair. "That is what I'm hoping for."

Severus smiled. Harry had long been able to discern the of-course smile that he gives Draco and his cohorts and the genuine smile that so few people see. "I am glad to hear that. So what do you suppose we should do about the students?"

"I thought about that," said Harry, slowly. "I was thinking that we should probably try to keep it quiet. Until it is necessary to make the announcement."

Severus winced a little at "announcement," but he said, "That was my thought as well. It wouldn't do for my image to be thought of as dating a fellow teacher."

"If that's what you're worried about, think about my Gryffindors!" Harry said, laughing. 

"Yes. Not mentioning the Slytherins. We are an odd match, aren't we?"

Harry leaned over and clasped his hand. "Not at all."

"Hmm. I suppose I do love you."

"I love you too."

~*~*~

School started with no great mishaps. Severus was thanking his lucky stars. The new students were sorted into their respective Houses, and then they ate. The smaller kids did stare often at their new DADA teacher in awe, though. 

Teaching was a lot harder than Harry had expected. Granted, they get generous breaks, but he often stayed up very late at night to grade papers. He found himself running on coffee and sugar. Sometimes, Harry would sleep through breakfast, until a very stern-looking Severus unlocked all his doors and woke him up. 

Now he knew why Severus acted so during his classes. It takes a great deal of patience not to act like that.

There was, for example, a Hufflepuff named Socrates Endwood, who, unfortunately, failed miserably to live up to his name. He was the inevitable Neville Longbottom of his class. After the first Hufflepuff-Slytherin double DADA, in which Sock blew up his desk, Harry moved all his more delicate materials into another room.

He assigned his first detention on Thursday, to Peggy Thompson, a coquettish little fourth-year who had a predilection for making eyes at boys throughout the class. His main exasperation was that the boys cast glances back. It was utterly distracting and infuriating. After a moment of pensiveness, he decided not to assign detentions to anyone else, lest Peggy get the idea that detentions are a way to be alone with her partners in crime.

But what Harry failed to notice was that he sat next to Severus at almost all the functions, and then they had a habit of talking quietly amongst themselves at mealtime and Quidditch games. All he knew was that one day he was browsing through the Faculty Only section of the library and heard a couple of Ravenclaws chatting.

It was a high-pitched squeal that caught his attention. Then a decidedly feminine voice saying, "Jack, you can't think so! That is simply ghastly. Potter . . . and _Snape_?"

"How could anyone like Snape? He's an utter git," said another.

"I'm telling you, I see them together all the time," Jack insisted. "They sit together. They walk down the halls together. Sometimes Potter even goes to Snape's office at night. I saw him go in one day. I'm _telling _you, Athene, there's something going on."

"He could have needed a potion or something," said Athene reproachfully.

"At ten o'clock at night? Potter didn't go to Snape's _office_ office. He went to his private office. The one that only Slytherins are supposed to know about. Now how would Potter know about where it was?"

That was enough. Harry walked back to his classroom to prepare for his next class. His heart was pounding rapidly. So. Some of the students had thought about it . . . But who had noticed? And what are they saying? The boy, Jack Bassett, was a bright and well-liked lad. If he believed . . .

Thank God his next class was Gryffindor-Hufflepuff seventh-years. Colin was in that class. He would ask Colin.

****

End Chapter 2.

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As usual, anything pertaining to the word "review" is rapturously received.

(I'm working on my Verbal. Give me a break.)

P.S. I sensed some humanities majors in the reviews for Chapter 1. The truth is that I love history, it's the only thing I'm good at, but my teacher just gave a bomb of a test. Half the class failed and the highest grade was a 71. 


	3. Chapter 3: Revelry

**Author's Note:**

Here's the third chapter of "England."  I know it's been a while since I updated, but Christmas had been _really_ hectic for me.  That, and the fact that fanfiction.net decided to boot me off for a few days.

But this _is_ one of my favorite chapters.  It's a turning point (hint, hint!) in the course of this story.  Naturally, reviews would be much appreciated.

Again, thanks to my betas!

______________________________________________________________________________________________

**England**

**_by Galae_**

After the class finished, Harry was pleased to see that they were not all rushing out of his room, like the Gryffindors used to do after Potions.  But he had something else on his mind.  He called Colin to him.

            Waiting until all the students left and closing the door with a spell, he turned to the blond-haired prefect.

            "What is it, Harry?" asked Colin.  Normally he called him "Professor" in class, but Harry had asked him to just call him "Harry" outside of class.  Before, it had been simply a matter of unfamiliarity. Now, Harry was very glad he had asked him to do so.

"Colin," Harry said.  "Um, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," said the prefect, surprised.  "Why shouldn't you?"

Harry paused for a second.  "Well, it's kind of personal.  Colin, what are the students saying about . . . about Professor Snape and me?"

"You're a good teacher and he's not?"

The cautious tone was what decided Harry.  "You know what I mean, Colin."

"Well." Colin licked his lips a little.  "They're saying that you two may be dating.  But nothing else.  They all think that Sn—Professor Snape is too stuffy to shag."

The last was said with a sidelong glance and an impish smile.  

Harry felt amused and relieved at the same time.  So Colin still regarded him as a friend, but perhaps now with the respect of the teacher.  That was good.  And what he said . . .

"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.  Harry wanted to ask, "How do they know?" but changed his mind.  "Why do they think that?" 

"Well, it's weird, Harry.  I mean, you guys sit next to each other all the time—or, most of the time.   They say that you talk with him in your offices until one or two in the morning. Then there is the fact that he never makes fun of you."

Harry made a mental note to check the last one.  But the others he was not surprised at.  Jack Bassett had noticed it; but still it disturbed him.  Were they that obvious, or were the students just extraordinarily observant? A new question aroused.  If they noticed it, then whom else might have noticed during that brief period of time when he was still in school?  And how, if possible, would he ever get out of this conversation without incriminating (although being in a relationship with Severus could hardly be called a crime, at least not in his mind) both Severus and himself?

"Indeed," said Harry.  He was very well aware of the fact that Colin was looking at him rather curiously.  "Very well, Colin.  Thank you for being honest with me."

"Why do you ask?" Colin asked very predictably.

"I heard some whispers in the hallways," Harry said tersely.  He stood up, a signal that the meeting was almost over.  "As prefect, Colin, you hold an important role in this school.  Rumors not backed by facts are the equivalent of lies.  Until they have hard, cold proof, they have nothing.  I trust that you understand that?"

Colin nodded.  "Yes.  Yes, I understand.  I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good-bye, Colin."

As he watched the boy leave his office, Harry felt a little guilty.  He knew what Colin's uncomplicated mind would glean from the conversation—that the rumors should be stifled, and it was his job to do so.  Unfortunately, his former schoolmate would find that the rumors would be truth, which was what Harry was trying to tell him in a very subtle way.  However, Harry doubted Colin would catch the reluctance in his words.  Harry felt that in some intricate way, he was using Colin to buy time.

Harry sighed.  Nothing was complex until he met Severus.

School continued on though.  Soon October was upon them.  As Harry foresaw, some of his students were no longer looking at him with the inquisitive eye.  Most of them still were casting him glances, but that was all right.

Meanwhile, Severus was . . . Severus.  Just being with him every evening, correcting papers together and relaxing afterwards, was rapidly not becoming enough.  With a pang, Harry realized that he wanted to spend more time with him.  He wanted Severus to be the last face he saw each night and the first he saw every morning.  But that was impossible, he knew, unless . . .

It was that elusive "unless" that bothered him.  Of course, Harry knew the solution, but there was the question that lingered: Was he ready for it?  Or, to be more correct, was _Severus ready for it?  Because he knew the answer that was pounding inside his heart, but there was no way of knowing Severus's feelings._

Oh, of course he was exaggerating on that one.  As Harry walked down the halls of Hogwarts in the middle of October, he thought about it.  Lately, he had found more than twice that he was able to predict Severus's actions with alarming accuracy, and that they have been finishing each other's sentences as well.  Whenever Severus groped for a word, it seemed like Harry was always ready with one.

Merlin, he needed him.  Harry needed him in a way that made his bones ache and his heart cry.  He no longer felt totally alive until he was by Severus's side.  It was a love unlike any Harry had ever experienced, or even dreamed of.  

And it wasn't just the physical need, of course.  Yes, Harry wanted him—had wanted him ever since that day in New York, when they first kissed.  But it was now something much greater than that.  It was the gap that separated adolescent affection from mature devotion—the knowledge of something beyond just a good shag and raging hormones.  Harry knew now why Severus reacted the way he did that fateful night when they had come so close.  

Sex, on its own, is only a physical gratification.  Harry didn't want that anymore.  He wanted to make love, and there was only one person that he would be able to share that with.

It was only much later that Harry found he had reached his decision.

~*~*~

But still, it was hard to gather up your courage in two hands and give someone your heart and soul.  Because it wasn't a present, wrapped up in gold and silver.  It was a responsibility, a statement . . . a commitment.

Harry realized that.  Despite his position and maturity, he was still a man, and men are not as emotionally and psychologically intelligent as they can be.  He had love and he gave it freely, but he never understood how much he got back.

How would Severus respond?  Worst, he would reject him completely, but that didn't seem too likely.  Then Severus might just say that he doesn't feel up to it, meaning, "I love you but I'm not in love with you."  

He might agree, though, and say that it was what he wanted all along.  In that case . . . no.  Harry shouldn't think about this now.  He should be discussing this with Severus if everything went well.  He'd have to wait.  

The next weekend was Hogsmeade. Harry used that excuse to take a day off from Hogwarts and go to Devonshire.  Severus asked him why, although he thought he knew the reason.  Harry agreed to Severus's instincts and said that he was going to visit Sirius.

In truth, Harry was going to London.  He wasn't too keen on calling on Sirius until Remus was there to restrain him from doing anything . . . regrettable.  Harry met Hagrid in Diagon Alley and blushed when the groundskeeper gave him a knowing wink.

Nevertheless, he still managed to slide into his seat at the Great Hall before dinnertime, avoiding Minerva's raise of eyebrow and Dumbledore's amused smile.  Severus did not say anything about his short absence.

The next few days, Harry took to sulking around the hallways at late nights.  He had told Albus that he wished to make sure no negligent students were where they weren't supposed to be.  It was a lame excuse, considering his own history at Hogwarts, but Albus gave him full rein in doing so.  

The things is, Harry wanted to think quietly.  He had been hasty again, he thought, doing what Severus always cautioned against doing—being impetuous and not thinking**—but the more he thought about it, the more he believed his heart . . . He was going to do something right, and for once Harry felt no qualms.**

That was before he decided to open the door to Severus's private office one night.  Sure enough, the older man was sitting at his desk, marking essays.  At the sound of the door opening, he looked up.  Harry looked at him closely and saw him smile a little.

"Are you done for the night?" he asked, somewhat awkwardly.

"Quite."  Severus pushed away the papers.  "I can finish the Hufflepuffs' tomorrow."

Their movements were smooth and practiced as they both settled into their familiar positions: Harry on the dark burgundy armchair near the fireplace, Severus on the emerald one facing him.  A pot of tea began filling itself.

"How were you today?" Severus asked.  He was getting better at making small talk.

"Good.  I could be better."  Harry neglected to say that the "better" might be coming along very soon.

"Are you sick?"

Harry shook his head.  "Not the kind you mean.  I'm just a little worried."

Severus knew then that whatever Harry had to say, it was something that he had been thinking about for quite a while and a matter what is rather important, as well.  He nodded and settled back in his chair.

Harry drew in a breath.  "Remember, Severus, when we were in New York?" he asked.  

It was quite the rhetorical question.  A crisp nod. 

"One day," Harry said slowly, "when we were in the hotel room, you said something that I didn't understand at that moment.  I asked you when we were going to shag and you said when we know where we're going.  I said, 'How will we know?'"

Severus was looking at him with quite the vacant look on his face.  Clearly, he knew what Harry was talking about, but didn't know where he was going.

Harry swallowed.  "And then you said—and I'll never forget this—'Believe me.  We'll know.  When the day comes.'"

"Yes," Severus said slowly.  "So I said that."

"I know what you're talking about now," said Harry.  "I know.  The day had come."

Severus looked at him.  "Harry.  What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that—" Harry swallowed again.  Gosh, where _was that confident little speech he prepared?  "I'm saying that—I want you to have this."_

From his coat he took out a bag, and handed it to Severus.  

Severus took it without question, opened the bag, and gracefully retrieved its contents, which wasn't much.  It was a small box, colored a deep blue.  Obviously something expensive was inside.  He opened it.

Inside, upon soft midnight silk, was a ring.

Severus bit the inside of his cheek a little.  It wasn't just any ring.  It was beautiful and oddly familiar.  Gold and silver intertwined and melted so that the edges where they met were blurred and softened, and upon it was carved a design of laurels and threads.  

"What does this mean, Harry?" he asked quietly.

"It means.  It means that.  I want to be with you, Severus Snape.  Will you marry me?"

~*~*~

            It all hung so stilly.  Vaguely, Severus tried to recall when time had last stood so silent.  

He put down the box and looked at Harry.  That was when he realized, from the look on the other man's face, that Harry mistook the action and the serenity.  

Sometimes, you simply cannot explain in words.  Severus leaned over and kissed him softly.

"Yes."

Harry looked like a whirlwind just hit him, an adorable look on his beautiful face.  Then a grin crept over his face a little before exploding into joy.  "You mean it?"

"Of course, you impatient git," Severus said brusquely as he looked away.  "You asked me, and I answered you."

"Oh my God.  Oh my God.  This is good.  Thank you, thank you so much.  Oh my God, we're going to . . . we're really going to . . . you said yes! Oh my God . . ."

Harry was babbling but he didn't care.  Severus, however, said, "Stop gibbering, Harry."  When that didn't work, he shut him up momentarily with another really excellent kiss.

"Right," Harry gasped when they pulled apart.  "Stop gibbering.  Stop gibbering about the fact that WE'RE ENGAGED!"

So Severus's calm wasn't really an ordinary tranquility.  It was more of a cloak that he put on in necessary moments when his heart or mind simply needed to fly.  But he had never lost both at the same time, as he did then, when the truth sank in that he just agreed to marry Harry Potter.

What was wrong with him?

Apparently nothing, because Severus loved Harry with a force deeper than any magic can explain. What sealed it was the fact that Harry loved him back.

Him.  Severus Snape.  

"Are you okay, Severus?  Are you having a heart attack?"

What was it that made them both so skeptical about being loved?  

"Yes.  No.  I mean, I don't know."  Severus shook his head at his confusion.  "I meant . . ."

"I love you."

There was that sentence again.  The sentence that started everything, set everything in motion, and made everything fit into place.

They kissed.

**End Chapter 3.**

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**Postscript:**

Thoughts?  Predictions?  Anything?

_Please_ leave a review.  It would do wonders for my drabby, crabby day.


	4. Chapter 4: Resonance

_Author's Note:_

The long-awaited (yeah, right) fourth chapter of "England" is here.  Many, many apologies for the wait, but I was busy finishing "The Spells We Know" and starting "Quill."  But now that summer vacation is upon us, be back for a lot of new updates!

**______________________________________________________________________________________**

**England**

**_by Galae_**

"Of course," Severus said with a smile as he fingered the ring.  "Claris's ring."

Harry nodded.  "I had the jeweler take some designs off of it.  But I added some of my own."  Harry looked at him earnestly.  "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not.  It's your prerogative."

"Geez, I never thought about that.  The proposer gets to choose the ring."

"You never had to think about that," said Severus, a slight chiding in his voice.  "For that matter, neither did I."

"It's so nice, isn't it?" Harry said with a sigh.  "We learn much from each other."

"Harry, what are we going to tell . . ."

" . . . The students?"

" . . . The staff?"

" . . . The parents?"

And then both of them looked at each other and cried simultaneously, ". . . DUMBLEDORE?"

~*~*~

            When Severus coughed very conspicuously during the staff meeting two days later, Dumbledore looked at him and asked, "Yes, Severus?  Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"I do, actually," Severus said, trying to look coolly at the rest of the professors.  Kind of hard when you've spent all your life being the perpetual bachelor and you were going to announce your engagement.  To a former student, to cap it off.

"The fact of the matter is this is something that is rather important to me, and of a . . . personal nature."

Hooch's coffee nearly tipped over.  Obviously, the word "personal" woke up a few of the staff members.

Dumbledore was looking at him and Harry.  That was expected.

"I would like to tell you all that Harry and I have been involved in a relationship."  

All heads stared at him, and then whipped to the young professor beside him.  

"A private relationship," Harry confirmed.

Idly, Severus wondered if the staff room had ever been so quiet.  All of the mature, omniscient teachers were looking like they've been hit with the Silencing Spell and the Alarm Charm at the same time.

"Well," Dumbledore said, clearing the hush.  "I, for one, am glad to hear that.  It is sure to be the beginning of a wonderful atmosphere here at Hogwarts."

"B-but it can't be!" Minerva found her voice.  "Severus?  Harry?  Is this a joke?"

"Not quite," said Severus soberly, wondering whether he should be indignant or relieved at her surprise.

"Oh."  Minerva said nothing more.

Severus and Harry exchanged looks.  "And that's not all," Harry said quickly.  "As of Thursday, we are engaged."

Stony silence again.

"Well," said Severus to Dumbledore.  "Next on the agenda?"

~*~*~

"_You are ENGAGED to Snape?!"_

Harry read the rest of Ron's letter in amusement, watching as Ron went from utter shock to utter denial to begrudging approval.  As expected, Hermione had enclosed her letter too, although hers was warmer.

Dumbledore down.  Staff down.  Now what about the students?

Harry chose a Tuesday to talk to Dumbledore, who assured him that it would be fine.  Harry chose that day because there was no Quidditch game (lest all of Slytherin or Gryffindor die from shock) and because it didn't carry the sleepiness of Monday or the excitement of Friday.  

Dumbledore tapped his goblet with a fork.  The Great Hall almost quieted immediately.

"Thank you for attention.  However, it is not I who wish to make an announcement.  I would like all of your individual interest on two of my staff members, who would like to make something known."

The students flitted looks.  "Interest", Harry thought, was rather going to be an appropriate noun.

Dumbledore gave him a nod, and then, as practiced, Harry stood up.  "Hello, students.  I would like to take a minute to inform you all that Professor Snape, your Potions Master, and I, Harry Potter, have sealed our relationship with engagement."

It was scary, to say the least.  Harry had faced one of history's most horrifying wizards more times than he could count, but he had never, _ever heard anything like this before._

Utter, dead silence.

It was even quieter than the announcement in the staff room, because this was a hall of hundreds of chatty teenagers.  And it was much more short-lived.  After a second, Harry thought that the Great Hall had exploded.

Everywhere there was noise, screams and yells across the room.  The students seriously were holding conferences.  And then a hand rose in the air.

Harry squinted.  "Yes, Frank?"

"Is this real?"

Harry glanced at Dumbledore.  Then Severus stood up.

All of the sudden the hall quieted again.  Slowly, Severus took Harry's hand and laced their fingers together.

He had never heard such eloquence.

~*~*~

            It didn't take long to decide on a wedding date.  Christmas Vacation was the only time that they had free until the end of the school.  

"Two weeks," Harry said, "for a nice, long year honeymoon.  And trust me—" he gave Severus a wicked look.  "—I intend to put it to good use."

"I shouldn't be bored, hmm?" Severus said.

Harry resisted the urge to plop them both onto the couch and snog until the end of time.  Or maybe to something more.  "I would hope not.  But that brings us to the next question: Where are we going to stay?"

"And then there's the ceremony."

Harry had put a lot of research into this.  "Don't worry about it.  Molly will do it."

"Is she a Weasley?"

"Ron's mum."

"I am highly unconvinced," sniffed Severus.

Harry smiled.  "Would you rather do it yourself?"

"Mrs. Weasley is fine," said Severus immediately.  "But nothing fancy—if she gets one plum tart I assure you that she will regret her decision for the rest of her life."

"I'll warn her."

"There's one more thing."  Severus looked at Harry for a while.  "My mother would want to meet you."

Harry nearly fell off his chair.  "Your—your what?"

"Mother."

"But—but—I never knew—" Since when did Severus have a mother?  Okay.  That was a dumb question.  But of all the times . . . of all the things he had told him . . . Severus had never once mentioned _anyone in his family being alive._

"Yes, I never talked about her," Severus said sharply.  "But I do have one, Harry."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry demanded.

Severus sighed.  "It's a long story.  My mother . . . she had always been in the background of my life, I suppose.  She was meek before she married my father, and after she did, she became more of a shadow than a woman.  The day I was born, a nurse took me away and cared for me.  My mother was in delicate health, you see.  Father ran the house all by himself.  She was simply there, as a decorative object, because one was expected to have a wife.  If I was a girl, I would have been treated the same way."

Harry winced.  The Dursleys were bad, all right, but at least they knew that he existed.

"When my father died," Severus continued, "I went back to the Hall for the first time in fifteen years.  My mother was alive and well, of course, but she had been so stifled for decades that she could hardly say a word.  All of Father's friends and cohorts were coming after the house.  She didn't know what to do; she was nearly going crazy.  I went down quickly and I asked her where she wanted to go.  She wanted to go to Montiago.  I closed up the house, dismissed the servants, and sent her there.  Since then, she had become rather self-dependent.  And happier, I hope."

"So, for the ceremony . . ."

"I expect that she would like to see me married," Severus said, softly.  

Harry smiled at him.  "I would love to meet your mother."

~*~*~

Soon December was upon them.  The Great Hall became decked with boughs of holly, and Harry was literally dancing on his toes.  One month.  His students tried to profit from his mood, but they found (after five failed tests) that it was not to be capitalized on.

However happy he was, Harry couldn't help but notice that Severus was becoming quieter.  He contributed that to the fact that Severus was, after all, introducing him to his mother in a couple of days.

            It was that first weekend in December that Harry and Severus went to London.

The place they entered was called the Magnolia.  It was some kind of a modern teahouse, decorated solely in green, black and white.  It just figured.  Somehow Harry's stomach became knotted up with qualms.  A Slytherin Minerva now emerged in his imagination.

"And your mother is?" Harry asked his fiancé as he looked around.

"Follow me.  Of course," Severus added for good measure.

They pushed past a set of glass doors and into a room that was quite different from the one they entered.  It was in the same color scheme, but warmed by candlelight.  It was sparsely populated, only a few women and two pinstriped businessmen.

He knew her right away.  A thin, slight woman with grey hair and a perfect posture.  She was sitting alone, and studying a newspaper of sorts.  

That was Harry's first glimpse of his future mother-in-law.

"Mother," Severus said.

Mrs. Snape stood up.

He didn't know what he was expecting.  But somehow she fit his nonexistent depiction perfectly.  She was of medium height, just a little shorter than he.  And she was beautiful in such a fragile, strange way.  Her long, dark-lashed eyes contrasted remarkably with that translucent skin.  Her light grey hair was still streaked with brown.  Her lips were thin but expressive.  She was dressed impeccably, in a dark beige ensemble and a sapphire necklace.  

"Madam," he stammered.

Brown eyes—Severus's eyes!—examined him.  "Hello.  I suppose you are Harry Potter."

"Yes, madam," Harry said.  He didn't know whether he should kiss her hand.  

She smiled, and motioned for them to sit down.  Severus went immediately to push in her chair for her.  Harry felt like a cad. 

All through tea, he wondered how this lady had been wedded to Severus's father—who, from Severus's words, had been one of the most ruthless men who ever lived.  Her voice was soft, her etiquette was perfect.  He could not see her as a bride, walking down the aisle innocently to marry a man who would suppress her callously for the rest of his life.  She was so confident of herself!  But as the conversation wore on, Harry started to pick out little details, like the fact that her voice was just a little _too_ soft.  Even though her posture was perfect, her eyes flitted cautiously.  Harry licked his lips, with an indescribable sense that it was all his fault.  

But Mrs. Snape was wonderful woman.  She spoke big—she knew the Muggle world inside out.  At the end of their tea, Mrs. Snape smiled at him.

"I am so glad that you are marrying my son," she said.  "Severus needs someone who can balance him in manner, mind, and speech.  You are a very bright young man, and courageous too, from what I have heard from Severus."

"Mother," Severus said, clearing his throat.

Harry gave him a look.  "Thank you for your blessing, madam."

"Oh, don't call me that anymore.  My name is Clarissa."

_Dalloway_, Harry thought immediately.  

She folded her napkin and set it upon the table.  "I will come to Derbyshire, then, the day before the wedding.  If you need anything, simply owl me and I will be there."

"Thank you, Mother," Severus said.  "We will look forward to your arrival."

They stood up.  Severus gave her a small peck on the cheek, and Harry did the same.  They went out to the street and saw her off in a taxi.  

"I thought you two would get along rather well," Severus said as they waited for the Hogwarts Express.  

"She is so . . . wonderful," said Harry, dazed.  

"Father always thought her spineless," Severus answered.  "It is both her fortune and catastrophe that he died early."

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So.  Harry met Severus's mother.  Does this mean something?  And why is Severus quiet?  Was he really worried about the meeting?  Stay tuned.  

And instead of a commercial break, why don't you exercise your fingers with the "REVIEW" button down below?


	5. Chapter 5: Resolution

_Author's Note:_

I don't have all the answers.  I don't know Rowling, or her husband, or her children, or even her dog.  (Does she even have a dog?)  This story is completely and utterly fictional, and I am making no money off of it.  

My philosophy towards fanfiction: Don't ask, don't tell, don't believe, don't sell.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

**England**

**_by Galae_**

****

The next weekend, they went to Devonshire to invite Sirius and Remus to the wedding.

            As expected, Sirius lunged for Severus's throat, and Remus contained him.  After four hours, Sirius was mollified.  

            It wasn't the relationship, of course.  Everybody knew about it by now.  It was just the fact that somewhere along the way, the news of the engagement had not filtered into their house.  Sirius was flabbergasted, to say the least, of why the hell Harry wanted _anything to do with Severus Snape._

That night, while Severus and Remus went to town to buy some groceries (an apt excuse to leave Harry and Sirius alone), Sirius sat by the fireplace pouring himself a drink.  

"I don't know why you're marrying him," he said, slowly.  "Are you just doing this to exasperate us?"

"No!" Harry cried, aghast.  "Is that what you think it is?  A teenaged rebellion?"

"I don't know what to think.  It is the most natural conclusion I could think of."  Sirius turned his head away.

"How about the fact that I love him?  I do, Sirius, the way that you love Remus.  Why can't you see that?"

"I see it, alright."  Sirius sounded very tired.  "I just can't imagine—out of all the people who are willing to love you—why you picked him—"

"I love him," Harry said, "because he is the only person who sees me not as a name.  Severus loves me as me, whether I am Jim Brown or Harry Potter.  And he . . . understands."

"I think I failed you somehow."

Oh.  So that was what it was.  "Do you think you owed something to my father?" Harry asked, carefully.

"Dammit, of course I owed something to your father!" Sirius cried.  "I owed everything to your father.  And he asked one thing of me, just one thing, and that is to see that you're happy and taken care of."

"And you think you're failing of that?" Harry asked, incredulous.  "How could you say that?  Look at me, Sirius—I _am_ happy.  I didn't go to Severus because I need somebody to take care of me, I could do that myself.  I went to Severus because he made me happy."

Sirius said nothing.  And then he said, "You must try to look at it from my point of view, Harry.  Hermione is expecting, isn't she?  What if she chose you as her child's godfather, and then both she and Ron died, and within eighteen years their child is sleeping with Draco Malfoy?"

Harry opened his mouth to say that he and Severus were _not_ sleeping together, but closed it.  Just the image was too much to bear.  He understood.

"I understand," he said aloud.  "But you must see it from my way, too, Sirius.  What if I told you that I hated Remus, and that I wished he was dead?"

Sirius swallowed.  "I suppose we've reached an agreement, haven't we?"

~*~*~

However sure he sounded to Sirius, Harry was actually masking bewilderment.  In the next few days, that confusion turned into doubt.  Severus was becoming quieter than usual, didn't snap out half as often.  When he did talk, his voice was soft.  Placid, almost.  More than once Harry would be speaking, but Severus wouldn't be paying any attention.  He seemed distracted, almost.  Also, many times Severus would ask him for the date, three or four times in an hour.  It was like he had an appointment that he dreaded, but couldn't miss all the same.  Somewhere, Harry felt like there's something wrong.

"Severus, what's wrong?" he finally asked one day at the dinner table.

"What?" Severus asked, confused.  "There's nothing wrong."

"Then why have you . . . changed?"

"Of course I've changed.  I'm a man making a big step in his life, Harry.  Surely you don't expect me to remain the same always," Severus said, his voice exasperated.

"I _know_ that."  Something boiled up inside Harry.  "You don't have to talk to me like I'm a little kid.  I'm just concerned.  And I have all the right to be, you know.  After all, you _are_ going to be my . . . husband soon."

"Yes."  Again, that distant look in his eyes.

"You're doing it again."

"What?"

"You're looking at me, but not _at_ me."

"I'm sorry, Harry.  I'm tired."

"Then you've been tired a lot lately.  Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?" Harry said sarcastically.

"_Please_, Harry.  I've had a long day.  Can we not argue about this?" Severus demanded.

Harry backed off immediately.  His own frustration was mounting rapidly, but still.  He could see Severus's patience wearing thin.  

With great effort, Harry turned back to his food.  What's wrong?  And just when all the students were beginning to accept them too.  Why must this happen, at this time?  Why isn't Severus speaking to him like he should?  Why hadn't he come to visit him lately?  Now that Harry thought about it, he hadn't seen Severus much these couple of days, except at mealtimes.  Severus had said last night that he had a headache and wanted to go to bed early.  

So maybe he _was_ tired.

Or maybe . . .

Harry sighed sharply.  

~*~*~

That night, Harry lay in bed, going over the dinner conversation with a fine-toothed comb.  He concluded that there was indeed something wrong.

But he dismissed the feeling almost immediately.  Why should he be worried right now?  Severus _did_ agree, didn't he?  Then . . .

Harry should be the happiest person on the planet right now.

Then why did he feel so confused?

~*~*~

"Severus?" Harry murmured into the office.  It was empty.  Harry sighed and walked to his fiancé's private office.

It, too, was empty, which meant that Severus either pulled another disappearing act or he was in another secret supply closet.  Harry looked around the office, and sure enough, there was a little, nondescript door.  All the times that he had been in that room, Harry had never noticed it.  It blended into the woodwork.

He muttered a spell and the door swung open.  That was when Harry gasped.

Instead of a dark, dusty cupboard full of unknown bottles and jars, Harry was staring at a large bedchamber, complete with a glowing fireplace to one side.  But what made Harry gasp was the sight of Severus sitting upon his bed, dark forest-green sheets pooling around his naked waist.

He realized, later, that the look on Severus's face must have mirrored his own.  But Severus, from years of experience, reacted faster.  Within seconds he was snatching up his shirt from the sturdy chair next to his bed.

"Old habits die hard, hmm?" Severus said with a slow smile.

"You weren't at dinner," spoke Harry, voice almost at a whisper.  He was trying very, _very_ hard to tear his eyes from Severus's bare torso.  Many a fevered night had been spent picturing his fiancé's body, and now that his eyes perceived it as reality, Harry couldn't help but give a few admiring glances.  He had never thought . . .

"I was feeling a bit tired," Severus explained.  "I had spent all yesterday night brewing potions for Minerva.  So . . . yes.  I was tired."

"Oh."  Inside his mind, he screamed, _Again?_

Severus was buttoning up his shirt, but he wasn't moving from his bed.  Harry gulped when he realized what that meant.  

"Harry?  Did you need something?"

"A big bad camera," Harry murmured lasciviously.  

"Oh, for God's . . . I'm tired today, Harry.  Just tell me what you needed."

Harry paused.  He realized that he was standing in a doorway, having a conversation with Severus from across the room.  But he didn't dare to go any closer.  "Nothing, really," said Harry, slowly.  "I just wanted to see if you're okay."

"I wasn't snatched up by insane ex-Death Eaters, thank you very much," Severus said sardonically.  "But I appreciate your concern."

"Then I'll just go now."

"Wait.  Harry."

Harry retreated.  "Yeah?"

"Um."  For once Severus looked like he had no words in mind.  "I want to talk to you."

"Yes?"  Harry walked back towards Severus.  "Is it bad?"

"I'm afraid so.  Harry, I don't think . . . I don't think I can do it."

Harry's heart stopped.

"What?  What in the bloody hell do you mean, you can't do it?"

"The wedding," Severus said simply.

"I—I—you!"

For a while they simply stared at one another.  Finally Severus found his tongue.  "I'm so sorry."  His voice cracked a little.

"But why?" Harry asked softly.

"I don't feel it's right," Severus said.  "Something's out of place.  I feel it.  I tried so hard, I really did.  But the whole thing—announcing it to the school, Mrs. Weasley and her damned plum tarts, you meeting my mother, picking out the house, you explaining it all to Black.  You know that I always had to be the one in control of myself.  My father tried to take that away from me and I left him.  Voldemort tried to take that away from me and I left _him_.  And this . . . I knew something wasn't right, Harry."  Then suddenly he stopped.

Slowly, Harry walked to the chair near Severus's bed and sat down.

"Everything, Harry, everything.  The whole wedding didn't make any sense to me anymore."

"What about our love?" Harry demanded.  "Does _that_ make any sense to you?"

"Harry, please.  I'm not going to try to explain."

"Oh, no.  You're the one telling me that you're going to call off the wedding.  I'm the victim, here.  I'm the one who needs the explanation and the comforting.  I'm sick and tired of this game—What's Bothering Severus Today?  I've tried so hard to figure out this relationship, from New York to the ring.  For once you are going to help _me_ in untangling this stupid knot that you got us in!"

At the end, his voice was ringing throughout the whole room.  Harry couldn't help it.  He was furious.  Absolutely, positively furious.

"Harry."  Severus laid a hand on the back of his.  Harry resisted the urge to wrench his hand away.  "Please.  Just give me some time."

"But how much time do you need?" Harry asked.  "You said that in New York.  I agreed.  I found the perfect time and I proposed.  You said yes.  What more do you want?  Why are you so damn unsure?  We love each other.  How could you be such a blockhead?"

"You don't know anything about me!" Severus lashed out suddenly.  "_Love_, Harry, does not equal happy marriages!  I've never . . . I've never even thought about married life when I said yes.  I bet you haven't either.  Have you given it a half a thought?  Marriage is not all happy domestic doings, Harry.  We can't even decorate our own house!"

"Is that your whole problem, because you can't knit a lace dolly?" Harry demanded.

"No.  It's a _part_ of the problem.  We're rushing this, Harry.  Rushing it too quickly.  We're not even thinking about it.  And I know, for a fact, that you know it."

Harry couldn't think of a thing to say.

"Yes.  Look at me, Harry, and tell me that you don't regret a single thing that's happened.  Why did you get the ring, Harry?"

"Because I loved you!" Harry uttered potently.

"Yes, and because you felt like there was nowhere else to go but marriage.  No other route.  It was the logical next thing to do.  You haven't even stopped to consider anything else.  Because you're expected to get married if you're in love.  Nothing's supposed to go wrong."

Harry closed his eyes.  "I . . . I thought that that was the right thing to do."

"It _was_, Harry, just not for that time."  Harry opened his eyes to see that Severus's expression had turned soft.  "There's still so much that we have to know about each other."

"But I thought I knew everything about you."

"No."  It was a quick, sharp answer.

"Oh."

"And I don't know enough about you, either," Severus said.

"No."

"But it was just . . . I don't know.  Everything was so perfect.  Everything was sailing straight ahead.  I thought . . ."  Harry sighed and leaned back into the chair.

"I understand," Severus whispered.

"Why?  How do you know what I'm going through right now?"

"Because," said Severus, "I was once there too."

~*~*~

Christmas Break came and went.  They had long told everyone that their wedding had been . . . postponed.

Not cancelled.  Postponed

Looking outside into the thick drifts of snow, Harry realized that Severus had been right.  Yet again.  He never knew of a girl named Gabrielle Fayette.  

He closed his eyes.

Severus was always right.  From the beginning, he had been right about everything.  Everything he did was perfectly planned, perfectly done.  

And that was Harry's secret—he wished that he would stumble.  Just once.  He wished that one day, Severus would be wrong about something, and that he, Harry, would be right.  Then their relationship would be complete.  

That was what Severus had been searching for—and what he still is seeking.  Only he didn't know it.  In his mind, Harry knew that Severus couldn't marry him because he still saw him as a child.  Only until Severus stumbled could Harry prove himself to be a man.  

But could Harry tell him that?  No.  Severus would have to discover it himself.

Until then . . . 

They would just keep on wearing those laurel-and-thread rings.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Was that an expected or unexpected ending?  I tried to hint at it in the last chapter, but I don't know if it worked.  I'll let you in on something: I was going to have the whole shebang—the plum tarts, the ceremony, even some of the wedding night foreplay.  

But then one of my betas said, "I don't know . . . Snape seems a little off.  I think it's going too fast."  That's when I stepped back and went, "Oh my God, you're right!"  The thing is that I was so completely caught up in how wonderfully everything was going to work out that I forgot that this is _Severus_ getting married, not Romeo Montague.  I think this ending was more appropriate.

Agree?  Disagree?  Tell me!


End file.
